Starry, Starry Night
by funkyorange
Summary: When Harry was four, he disappeared. Now, a mysterious man called Altair, who looks exactly like Harry, has appeared. And Altair's a star. And Voldemort's after his heart. Based on Stardust. Rated T for language. ON HOLD.
1. Altair's birth and fall from the sky

**I watched Stardust and thought...what if Harry was a star? What if he was knocked out of the sky? What if he landed in Diagon Alley, in a war-stricken Wizarding world? And then, this was born.**

The Stars twinkled above Number Four, Privet Drive, as four year old Harry Potter looked up at them from his place in the tree. He was in a tree because Dudley and friends had chased him up it, and then had gone, but he knew that the Dursleys locked the door when Dudley was inside. It was a simple fact, in Harry's mind. He had no idea that children, 'freaks' or not, shouldn't be treated that way. Humming a nursery rhyme he'd heard Aunt Petunia sing to Dudley (along with music, of course. Petunia's voice was similar to having a rusty screw slowly put in your ears. Luckily, Dudley didn't seem to notice this). How did the words go? Softly, he began to sing,

"_Twinkle, twinkle,_

_Little Star,_

_How I wonder what you are._

_Up above the world so high,_

_Like a diamond in the sky._

_Twinkle, twinkle,_

_Little Star,_

_How I wonder what you are._" As his skilled, but young, voice brought the song to an end, he wished harder then he'd ever wished for anything, that he could be a star, 'above the world so high', because well...The world was where the Dursleys were. In a flash, Harry Potter disappeared.

_Thirteen years later_

Hermione Granger, seventeen, walked down the bustling street named Diagon Alley. She was away from her parents in the war time, when Lord Voldemort, also known as You-Know-Who, had come back from the dead, from when Harry Potter, The-Boy-Who-Disappeared, age one, had killed him. Hermione was the smartest witch in her year, friends with the laziest wizard in the year after he saved her from a troll. Unfortunately, he hadn't gotten there in time, and her left leg had been mangled beyond repair- in the Muggle World. In the Magical one, it had healed, but not properly. She walked with a limp, but luckily, this didn't hinder her magical prowess. Moving as quickly as she could, she made her way over to Nymphadora Tonks, her Order guard. She was under the protection of the Order of The Phoenix because her best friend's mother was in it, and wouldn't have Hermione kept alone at her parents' house. As she was walking, a loud "BOOM" came from Flourish and Blotts, where she had just been. The historical bookshop, one of the oldest in Britain, was gone. A young man, perhaps her age, was lying in the rubble. He wore his black hair down to his shoulders, and was tall, with the palest skin she had ever seen- even on a Malfoy. Her wand arm relaxed, but she did not put away her wand. Stepping forward, she and Tonks approached the boy.

"Who are you?" Tonks asked. Opening his eyes, the boy sat up. Hermione, for the first time, got a good look at him. He had high cheekbones, large green eyes, full, pink lips, and pale skin. He was the most beautiful thing she'd ever seen. He wore a shiny blue top and trousers, and no shoes. "Who are you?" repeated Tonks, obviously not cowed by his looks.

"My name..." He paused, as if trying to remember something, an action that put both Hermione and Tonks on guard, "Is Altair."

"Well, Altair, it's obviously not safe for you to be wandering around here," said Tonks, hoping to trick the boy into coming with her. "Let me take you somewhere you'll be helped, okay?"

"Okay," he agreed, picking up an old locket from the ground. Slipping it over his neck, he followed the pink-haired Arour.

_Well, dear readers, please tell me what you think in review form. Even if you hate it. It will be continued, as will The Hogwarts Experiment. I know, I know, I shouldn't begin another story with...three on the go already, plus one that doesn't really need updating. But the plot bunnies struck me. It was awful- I simply couldn't stop writing. Another chapter of all three will be posted soon, if you're waiting. If you are, I'm really, really sorry. _

_Love, funkyorange xxxxxxx_


	2. Hermione and Tonks

_Hi guys! In this chapter, it will differ from Stardust a bit. I'll go into detail that I really wanted to see in Stardust, but wasn't actually done. *Sigh*. Anyway. Please read and review! I know you're out there...*glares at readers who haven't reviewed* but I won't hold back chapters or anything, it's just nice to know that someone's liking it..._

_Anyway, this one's for my one and only reviewer, Heart- Of- Flames- Soul- Of- Ice. Thank you for reviewing!_

_Love, the funky xxxxxxxx_

_PS: For the time matters, here's what I was thinking: Light from stars CAN take a while to come to Earth, right? So, I thought that (with my Artistic License) time moves faster for stars than on Earth. Get it? It's pretty simple. Think of it as a time zone, to the max._

Altair was not happy. He'd fallen out of the sky because of one _bloody necklace!_ 'Not happy' didn't even cover it, Altair was furious. Hurrying after the pink haired one and the brown haired one, he hoped they didn't know of his place in the sky- they would surely be after his heart. Or maybe they did know, and this was a ploy to make him happy? Why was this sort of thing always so complex? Being a lonely creature, as stars are, he had no idea how to talk to, or read, these people. So, he began with what he knew of basic human culture, "Hello?" He was hesitant, was it the right word? He knew he'd been human, a long, long time ago for himself, perhaps not as long here, but many hundreds of years for himself, and now he remembered nothing of humans' culture: sure, he'd watched, but somehow humans weren't that interesting for him, having been one himself.

"Yes?" Said Pinkie. Ouch, so that hadn't been right. Well, stick with it...

"May I ask your names?"

"I'm Hermione," said Brownie, "and this is Tonks."

"Hello, Hermione," he said, taking her hand and kissing it. He'd seen a male do that to females, however it was not the same for males, he didn't think, anyway. He'd think it over later. He did the same to Tonks'. _Please let that be right_...Judging by the way Hermione giggled and blushed, it was flattering, but right. "May I ask where I am being escorted?"

"Dumbledore," said Tonks, and he looked at her. She didn't seem a very pleasant lady, with all the snapping... Luckily, he knew who Dumbledore was, the Leader of the Light. The stars had, one day, stayed up and talked about whether they wanted someone using the words as a title, but had decided against it. After all, it was Father Sun and Mother Moon who had the actual vote and choice upon whether to do anything.

"Why?" If he was as good on Wizarding Politics as the thought he was (having taken a great notice of them- he knew he'd been destined to be one of them, had he stayed Below), Dumbledore wasn't the head of much anymore. Nothing with much sway over the Ministry, anyway. Only Hogwarts and the...oh. He was being taken to the Order of the Phoenix.

"Wizenamagot matters," replied Tonks. He nodded, pretending to swallow the lie. Maybe he'd been behind? No, he kept up to date, and it had only been a few seconds while he'd fallen, so it couldn't be that long here, right? Had to be a lie. Anyway, from what he'd seen, the Order knew that the Ministry had been infiltrated, so they wouldn't take him there. So either Hogwarts or the Order, and he thought Dumbledore wasn't stupid, so he wouldn't take him to Hogwarts.

Suddenly, Tonks and Hermione grabbed his arms and there was a sickening sensation of being plunged through a tube and when that was gone he was in a completely different place.


	3. Altair's previous identity revealed

In the slight confusion of being pulled from one place to another, not unlike a Babylon Candle, a rarity in his home, a note was shoved at him and he read it in a daze. He noticed, as he slowly got his head straight, that a house was appearing between two others. For some reason, he wasn't that shocked.

Being marched into the house wasn't very nice. Being a lonely, with hardly any contact, race, Stars hardly ever saw one another, never mind _touched._ In fact, he could hardly remember being touched at all. So he yanked his arms out theirs, "I can walk," he snapped. "Just tell me where to go." After seeing their doubtful looks, he said, "If I wanted to run away, I already would have." Hermione sighed.

"Tell him, Tonks," she replied, rolling her eyes.

"Fine. Walk down the hallway _quietly_, then into the kitchen."

"And the kitchen is where?" He asked.

"Door to the right," replied Hermione. "I won't manhandle you, but I can show you where it is?"

"That would be much appreciated," he said softly. She motioned for him to follow her, and then lead him into a long, wide room with a huge wooden table in the middle. At the head of the table was Albus Dumbledore, and packed around him were men and women he didn't know.

"Professor?" Said Hermione, "this man landed on top of Flourish and Blotts in Diagon Alley."

"Don't you mean _landed in_?" Asked Dumbledore.

"No. He landed on top of it," said Tonks and Hermione together.

"Okay. Mr..."

"My name is Altair," he said to Dumbledore's searching look. "My last name has been lost in the many hundreds of years I have been gone."

"Hundreds?" Scoffed a lanky, red-haired boy. "You can't be older than me."

"Ron!" Scolded a plump, older lady, presumably the boy's mother.

"He does look young for 'many hundreds' of years, Mum..." Said another, shorter and slightly stockier red-head.

"He does, but appearances can be deceiving," she snapped. "Go on, Albus."

"You say you were 'gone'. Presumably, you have come back?" He asked.

"Yes, I once lived here. Thirteen years, in your time."

"Your time moves differently?"

"It does." Dumbledore looked at Altair, trying to read him.

"What are you?"

"I don't know if I can give up that information." Dumbledore nodded slowly, as if he understood.

"Well, I think you can," sneered a greasy haired, hook nosed man. "I think that you're hiding something _important_."

"It is not important to your silly war," he sneered back. "It is important to _my_ life."

"Silly war?" Yelled another dark haired man, his blue eyes wide with anger. "My best friends _died_ in that 'silly war'!"

"And there have been wars before and there will be more wars after it! The Muggles called World War one 'the war to end all wars', but there was World War Two and others after it! There will always be dark and light, as there will always be good bad! You'll never be rid of the dark, because without it, there would be no light."

Everyone but the boy who was scolded earlier seemed to be considering this, "So you think we should give up?"

"Against the Dark, yes. Against Voldemort, no," he replied, green eyes peering into Dumbledore's.

"That's stupid, they're the same thing," said the scolded boy, Ron, if he remembered correctly.

"They are not," Altair replied. "The dark is eternal; it can never be brought down: Voldemort is not eternal, even though he is immortal at the moment, and he can be brought down." Dumbledore nodded.

"You said you 'returned'? I have a feeling your name wasn't Altair."

"It wasn't," he agreed softly. "My name was Harry. Harry Potter."

_Phew, that chapter was a bitch to write. I don't know why, but it was just really hard to struggle through. I know what I'm going to do next, but...It's just hard to motivate myself when I'm feeling like crap. So, please review to let me know that my struggling was appreciated. Love, funky xxxxx_


	4. Altair Meets and Chews out Remus Lupin

There was a long silence. "Well," said Dumbledore, "that was a shock." This seemed to tip people over the edge, as several people fainted (most notably, the red-haired lady) and then people started scurrying forward.

"Alastor Moody," growled a grizzled, scarred man.

"Fleur Weasley," said a half-Veela, (he only knew this as Stars could sense other Children of the Mother, as they called them) and her husband introduced himself and his family as: Bill, Charlie, Fred, George and Ron, and their sister Ginny wasn't old enough to be here, but he'd meet her soon. The parents (the red-haired lady and a red-haired man) were Molly and Arthur Weasley.

"Severus Snape," sneered the man. "You shall refer to me as 'sir' or 'professor'."

"Minerva McGonagall," said an older, Scottish lady.

"Seamus Finnegan."

"Dean Thomas."

"Neville Longbottom."

"Dedalus Diggle."

"Hestia Jones."

"Kingsley Shacklebolt, but call me Kingsley."

Many others introduced themselves, but finally it was a man who called himself: "Remus Lupin."

"You are a Childe of the Mother," Altair said, his soft, silky voice (rather like Snape's, but softer, like silk over roses) caressing the words in awe.

"How did you know that? You are not another Werewolf, and it's obvious you're not a Veela...I don't want to be..."

"You _deny_ the Mother?" Altair's voice changed from awe to horror. "You deny her?"

"I didn't mean to offend..."

"It is an honour to be picked to bathe in the Mother's light! Two in one room, but only one embraces what she is! And the shamed cousin of the Protectors, at that!" green eyes blazing, Altair whispered in shocked horror. "You deny your Mother? And what of your Sire? Does he not search for you?"

"This is a curse!"

"IT IS A GIFT!" Shouted the Star. "You deny your gift! The Mother picked you for this honour, and you reject it! Tell me more, little _nemartian_*."

Remus did not know the word, but he could tell it was an insult. "I take the Wolfsbane Potion, I was bitten by a rogue werewolf as a child of three. His name was Fenrir Greyback."

"You kill your nature?" If he'd been horrified at everything else, nothing compared to Altair's horror now. "And as a child, the Mother would have taken care of you! But we know of this Fenrir Greyback," he said softly. "He is no longer the Mother's Childe."

"I do not want this," he whispered.

"You deserve it! I feel strength in you, little _ja'teaar freagth*_." He stroked Remus' head. "You can embrace your birth right."

A few moments silence, and the fainted people's return to the land of the living was signified with a chorus of moans of, "Oh, my _head._"

After letting them suffer for a few moments, Dumbledore cast a spell and said, "Altair, I think it's time you told us what you are."

_**Nemartian:**__ ney-marsh-ai-en. Stars' language, roughly meaning 'fool', 'idiot', and variations thereupon._

_**ja'teaar freagth:**__ jar-ay-tea-ayay-ar free-ay-gee-th. Stars' language, roughly meaning 'Wolf Child'. _


	5. Altair learns a new word Horcrux

Everyone seemed to freeze at Dumbledore's announcement. Altair didn't react, simply looked at him. "Again, it will risk my life," he said.

"No matter _what_ you are, we won't hurt you," said Dumbledore. "You're far too important."

"You cannot say this for everyone," Altair replied. "You do not know everything about everyone, you do not know their deepest, darkest desires, do you?"

"No," admitted Dumbledore, "but I'm sure that whatever you are won't impact these."

"It will," said Altair. "It will test whether they want immortality."

Hermione gasped. "You're immortal?"

"Almost immortal. Some of us die before you see us, some of us don't."

"You're not..." Black seemed to have come to a conclusion. "You're a star, aren't you?" More gasps echoed around the room.

"You like to gasp, don't you? Anyway, since Sirius Black has spilt the beans, yes, I am a star."

"How can you be? Both Lily and James were human!" said Remus.

"A star can be human," said Black, and Altair decided to call him 'Sirius' as he supposed the man would rather help him then die, thanks to the oath of the Blacks, "until they decide to go away, or are picked to become one. A human hasn't been picked since, well, forever..." He looked at Altair. "How did you fall?"

"This," spat Altair. "This locket, it just came zooming up to me, while I was minding my own business shining mind you, and knocked me out of the sky!" He pulled out the necklace. "And it's an ugly thing, anyway." He threw it to the Black. Sirius caught it, and held it up.

"Albus," he said, and in that word there was many emotions that it shocked Altair. Horror and a certain joy, along with something he couldn't name. "I think that that's it." The word it was reacted to so violently it could have been a physical act of violence: nearly everyone flinched, while Dumbledore simply walked over and picked it up.

"You can feel it," he said, placing one hand on the locket. "It feels as though there's a metal heartbeat within it." He looked, for some reason, disappointed when he saw that Altair felt no discomfort with it, close to his body like it was or in the same room.

"What is it? It knocked me out of the sky, I deserve to know," Altair said.

"You do deserve to know, but not for the reason you think," Dumbledore said. "This is a horcrux." Altair looked horrified, but seemed to put it aside and the look was replaced with interest.

"Soul magic," he said, reaching out. "We deal in it, but not in the blacker aspects."

"You perform _soul magic_?"

"I did not say that we performed it, we deal in it. We work with it, because we're immortal."

"Okay..." It was obvious nobody understood, but Altair wouldn't explain further until they asked, and it didn't look like they would ask.

"Altair," Dumbledore said, "I think it's safer if you reside at Hogwarts. For now, we can't get you home, and Voldemort's quest to be immortal would only prompt him to find, capture and kill you, and Hogwarts is the safest place for you."

Altair looked around- nobody was questioning it, so he sighed. "If it's the only option..."

"Excellent," Dumbledore said. "Minerva, Severus, would you please take Altair up to the guest rooms. He can stay there for the night, and then he can be moved into somewhere more comfortable tomorrow, when we're done here. Please return here after you are done with Altair."

"Of course, Albus," said Professor McGonagall. Sighing, she and Professor Snape led Altair to the fireplace.

"This is called Flooing, Potter," Professor Snape said.

"Altair."

"Altair what?"

"Just Altair."

"Altair _sir_," he said sharply. "Refer to me as 'sir'."

"Of course, sir, but only if you refer to me as Altair."

"Fine. Boy, this is Flooing."

"I am familiar with it," he nodded. Throwing the powder into the fire, he stepped in and Professor McGonagall shouted the destination: "_Hogwarts, Ravenclaw guest rooms!_"

As he was whisked away, he thought he heard Dumbledore ask, "Why did you say the Ravenclaw ones?"

"They're closest to the Astronomy tower. I thought he'd like it," she replied.

Altair spilled out onto dark blue carpeting. The walls were an off-white colour, and the furniture was only a bed, a sofa and a fireplace. The bed was, however, pretty awesome. It was a circular shape, with dark blue duvet and off white pillows. It was also lovely and soft. Sinking back on the bed, he decided that it would be okay to have a little nap, even if it was night, right? _It'll be fine_, was his last thought as he succumbed to the depths of sleep.


	6. Mipsy, History and a Meeting

It was a squeaky voice that woke Altair in the morning, or what he supposed was morning. It was light, with the rays of sunlight streaming in through his window. He looked around for the source of the voice. "Mipsy is sorry, Mr. Altair, sir, but Mipsy is needing to tell Mr. Altair Mipsy is to be Mr. Altair's personal house-elf."

"Just Altair, Mipsy. Now, could you please tell me where to find food?"

"Of course, Just Altair, sir. Mipsy thinks Mr. Altair would like to eat in the kitchens with the other house-elves and not bothered by the students?"

"You would be correct, Mipsy."

"Mipsy can pop Master there, if Mr. Altair would like to touch Mipsy's shoulder." Altair did as instructed, and after a second, he was in a huge room. It was a long, wide square room, with many tables and fires and pots and pans everywhere. Under a little archway, there were a few tables. Only one was taken by a blonde girl, a little younger than he. Mipsy took him to a table and asked him what he'd like to eat. After saying, "Just a few fruit, thank you," she hurried off in tears wailing about how she'd never been thanked before. As he waited for his fruit, he thought about the previous night.

_Why did I let Snape walk all over me like that? _He asked himself. _Perhaps it was shock? Would Voldemort find out about my being here? Would he know that I was Harry Potter? _

"Hello," said the girl, "my name is Luna Lovegood and you are a star."

He looked up, "Lovegood? You are a descendant of a friend of mine. Seers, I believe?"

"Yes," she said, nodding. "From my father I got that gift, from my mother I got Aura Reading."

"You are a very talented girl, Luna," he smiled to her. "May I call you Luna?"

"Of course you may," she smiled. "And I think I am."

"You are. Oh, how rude of me- even if you know my name, it is rude not to introduce myself. Altair, at your service." He took her hand and kissed it. Mipsy appeared, carrying his fruit. He took a slice of apple, and crunched it, the juice seeping into his mouth and the flavours bursting on his tongue. "It's good, thank you Mipsy," he smiled to her.

"Thank you, Mr. Altair, sir," she said, and popped away, presumably to work.

"So Luna, will you regale me with tales of your world? I look down upon it, yet I still know less than I should of it," he said to the blonde.

"Of course. Your style of greeting is rather outdated; it might be the Nargles..." Luna's dreamy voice continued to point out things that Altair might need to change, and he dedicated it to memory. He was enjoying his time with the lovely blonde.

A few hours later, when Luna's voice was sore and Altair's head bursting with the information she'd given him, Mipsy re-appeared, causing Luna to break off from talking about how firmly to shake someone's hand, and said, "Master Dumbledore wants to see you, Mr. Altair. Miss Lovegood can't come, apparently, sir. Mipsy is sorry."

"It's okay, Mipsy," he said. "Luna, may we meet up again sometime? I am truly enjoying your company."

"I would love to, Altair," she said, smiling. "Tomorrow is fine." Altair was growing used to Luna's way of answering his questions before he thought of them. Smiling, he replied that tomorrow _would_ be fine, and he would see her then. Mipsy took Altair up to the Headmaster's office the same way he'd been taken down to the kitchens. The Headmaster's office was wonderful, filled with interesting objects. Altair recognised one- it was a monitor.

"Altair, lovely to see you," said the aged man. "Now, let's sit down, have some tea or coffee and lemon drops, and sort this mess out."

"I'll skip the tea and lemon drops, sir. I've just eaten my breakfast." As Dumbledore hadn't extended his, he didn't offer his hand.

"Are you sure?"

"Very sure. Now, what was it you asked to see me for, sir?"

"Please sit. Now, I heard you were talking to Miss Lovegood? A strange, but kind, girl. She won't sell you out."

"Of course. Now, you mentioned sleeping arrangements last night...?"

"Ah, yes. I think you should be sorted and then..."

"Sorted? You mean, join a house?" He knew of Hogwarts' traditions: he'd seen many children pass through the halls of the old castle.

"Only to find you a room and help you make some friends," soothed the Headmaster.

"But I don't want to be sorted, I _love_ the room I'm in," he said. "And I have Luna, and we Stars aren't a very..._sociable_ race. We hardly see any other stars." Dumbledore nodded.

"Very well, then," he sighed. "You will stay where you are. Now, what about lessons?"

"Lessons?"

"We were thinking, Minerva and I, that you would like to learn magic, and it would be easier for you to fight Voldemort..."

"What about fighting Voldemort? I will NOT fight him, it is not my job. After all, I just want to go home."

"You must, because after all, you _were_ the saviour of the Wizarding World before you were a star."

"But it's my choice to make," he replied. "And I _will_ make the one that's best for me."

"Why not us?"

"_No_, Professor Dumbledore."

"Very well, then," said Dumbledore. But Altair could see from the twinkle in his eyes that Dumbledore wasn't done trying to convince him. "One last thing: would you mind becoming the History of Magic Professor? You say you know our history so well, so you might not mind, and Professor Binns has crossed over..."

"I would be honoured," he replied. "Children need to learn from their old mistakes."

"Very well then. Term starts in a week, please have your lesson plans and books ready before that time. You're excused."

Altair looked behind him as he left the office. Dumbledore looked deep in thought, and he shivered. He hoped whatever he was planning was nothing to do with him, but he had a terrible feeling that it was going to be bad for him. _Very_ bad.

_Please review, people!_


	7. AN

Hi guys! I am so so sorry for the wait, but my computer died. It was very sad. I miss it a lot. I'm typing this out on a friend's, so I lost all my files. Updates won't be coming quickly. _Starry, Starry Night's _next chapter might be coming soon, as might _Imma Wiserd with Commentary by a Weirdo's _next chapter. _The Hogwarts Experiment _might take a little longer.But that's not all I wanted to say. What does everyone think (my very loyal more-than-one-story-or-series readers to a 'Hogwarts reads the HP books with a difference' story? Might be slash, actually probably will be, and the books will be changed A LOT. Please tell me what you think.

Love, funky xxxxx


	8. Sirius and Altair talk

Altair looked up at the sky. It was night time, and his brothers and sisters were out and shining. He wished he was back up there: this world was not very good. He'd lived here when he was a babe, and he'd hated it then- what made him think it would be any better now? "I miss you," he said to his brothers and sisters. "I want to come back, I really do, but it's going to be hard…No Babylon candles, but maybe a Portkey would work…" Footsteps came from behind him.

"Altair?" It was Sirius Black. "I thought you'd be up here."

"Yes?" Altair replied, nearly glaring at the older man. He didn't, but it was close.

"I heard Albus wants you to teach," he said, settling down by the star. "You think you can do it?"

"I can try," he said softly, "and I'll need to work, anyway, as I don't think there's much chance of me going home."

"You really like it up there, huh?" Sirius said, gazing upwards. "When I was a kid, before my parents hated me, my dad used to tell me stories. 'Sirius,' he used to say, 'You have the name of a star, like all the Blacks before you.' And then he'd tell me about how Percival Black had saved a female star from the clutches of some Muggleborn witches who wanted to eat her heart to stay eternally young. Estelle, that was her name. He'd tell me about how the Blacks had sworn an oath to help a star whenever they could, and this oath was passed down by blood to this very day. It was my favourite bedtime story, you know."

"What happened to Estelle?"

"She fell in love with Percival and gave birth to his child, Yvonne."

"That sounds nice," he said with a smile.

"It was her talents that brought out the dormant Shadow Powers in the Black family line," he said softly. "I never learnt the Powers- it never came naturally to me. My brother, Regulus, however, understood the powers. That's why Voldemort wanted him so badly. And he got him. My baby brother died years ago."

"You must miss him."

"Not really. We weren't close when we were kids, and then he joined the Death Eaters…We met in battle, Altair. It's hard to see someone you love injured, but even harder to know someone you're friends with caused it…"

"I know," he said softly in reply.

"I'm your Godfather, you know," Sirius spoke quickly. "If you want, if you can't get home, you could, you know…live with me."

"I would like that," he replied, with a small smile. "I would like that a lot."

Silence fell, and they sat and watched the stars for a while more before Sirius spoke. "You should get to bed. I know it's night, but you're going to be teaching soon. And if you need any help, I'm here for you." Sirius brushed down his robes and turned to walk away.

"Thank you," Altair said suddenly. "For everything."

"My pleasure," replied his godfather, and he left, leaving Altair alone, staring up at the sky, wondering…_Was it possible I could like it here after a while?_

**Thank you for being so supportive, guys, and please, please review!**


	9. First day of class and the secret's out!

Altair's first lesson was not going well.

His first class had been the seventh year Hufflepuffs ("An easy lesson," McGonagall had reassured him, "they don't make trouble"), and he had tripped over his robes, getting a round of laughter from the class and thoroughly embarrassing himself, lost his register, forgotten just about everyone's names and much more embarrassing things he did not even want to think about. Luckily, he had managed to salvage the lesson by impressing them with his knowledge of the Muggle history of medicine, it being gory enough for their tastes, and comparing it to Magical medicine's history, actually teaching them something.

His second class had been much more of a success. Fourth years were important to get on his side, he thought, and fourth year Ravenclaws and Hufflepuffs were good ones to get. They held sway over the younger years and would (if he stayed here that long) tell next year's kids he was an okay teacher. He'd asked them to write what they were interested in that would be taught this term down on a scrap of parchment, and then he'd fished out what they'd learn about at that time. Grindelwald and his spies had been the winning nugget of information. He'd begun by glossing over the whole war, and then delving into the middle of it, when spies had been most common. He'd taught them why, and about the prisons and the torture, and just about everything about the spies.

The third class of the day had been Gryffindor and Slytherin fifth years. He'd taught them about the differences and similarities between famous people in both houses, hopefully earning both houses respect. He did not want to get a reputation of favouring one house above the other.

After that, he'd had two free periods to sort out more of a lesson plan and homework. After this, he had worked out his methods of punishment in his classes- luckily, he hadn't had to give any out today, but he knew it was only a matter of time. Finally, tired and hungry, he went down to the Great Hall to eat. He'd taken his place between Snape and McGonagall when Snape spoke. "Albus said you would be learning magic," Snape said.

"His plan for me was that, but I disagreed," he replied. "I am not going to fight someone who doesn't bother me."

"He will soon, if he finds out what you are," Snape said, glaring. "And I might tell him. My tongue might slip..."

"Threaten me all you like," he shrugged. "I honestly don't care. He can come and kill me for all I care. At least then I won't be stuck in this stupid place."

"Fine," Snape said, "I'll tell him."

"Severus," McGonagall said firmly, "you will _not_ tell You-Know-Who about Altair's being here! Or his being a star! Albus will not allow it!"

Snape sulked, while Altair smiled and finished his large dinner and hurried up to his rooms. Today had been exhausting.

A dark figure ghosted across the castle grounds, and when it reached Hogsmeade, it disappeared with a _crack_. Landing in front of an old but fancy mansion, it hurried up to the door. Passing by the two other shadowy figures quickly, it hurried down the hall into a large room. Bowing down in front of the snake like man in front of it, the figure spoke. "My Lord, I bring news. A new teacher, Professor Altair, has revealed himself as a star..." As he listened, the Dark Lord Voldemort's grotesque smile grew and grew as his most loyal follower outlined their plan...


	10. Sorry, not an update

Okay, hi guys. I'm sorry, but this story is on hold. I don't know what I can do with it, so I'm gonna try and write it, but I don't know. I might have to put it up for adoption or just take it down. I'm sorry, but I will inform you of my decision when I have made it.

funkyorange xxxx

PS: if I do not continue it, thank you all for reviewing.


End file.
